And so, she cried
by Mystearica
Summary: Amano Toko didn't cry often.
1. and so, she cried

Ever since she was a little girl, Amano Toko didn't cry much. Naturally, she had when her parents had passed away, but since then, tears had been a rare thing for the girl. She lived her life as the happy, optimistic girl she always enjoyed being, facing adversity head on and without fear.

When she had heard that Inoue Miu had stopped writing, she hadn't cried.

When Konoha had started to face so many of his past demons, and he started slowly breaking, she hadn't cried.

When she had caught Konoha nearly falling off the side of a building alongside his childhood friend, who had coerced him into doing so with her ... she hadn't cried.

When she realized that she couldn't stay by his side forever, she hadn't cried. Not the first time, anyway.

After he had kissed her, however, just before she stepped back onto the train that was supposed to take her toward her future ... amidst all the shock of seeing his figure become smaller and smaller on the platform as the train took her farther and farther away, she felt this odd sort of numbness that permeated her entire being.

Toko thought she had steeled herself for this moment. This was supposed to be a happy train, right? This happy train was taking her to another part of her life, and beginning a new part of Konoha's life as well. Certainly, she hadn't wanted to leave him, but she had to. The both of them had their own lives to live, and she knew, she just i_knew/i_ that Konoha was going to go on to bigger, better, _much better_ things than merely writing her snacks every evening in the dim light of the literature club room.

But when he had shocked her in such a way ...

It was then that she realized just how much she _didn't_ want to leave him.

And it was then that she realized it was far too late to get off the train, run to him, and hold him as tightly as possible. The feelings she suddenly felt were overwhelming, far more powerful than anything she had ever gotten from any of the books she had ever read.

Amano Toko didn't cry easily. She had cried when her parents passed away, but afterward, it was a rarity.

As the night train took her to a new life in Hokkaido, however, she slumped down in her seat, eyes filling with tears.

After staring at the ground for several moments, absolutely numb from what had just transpired, she put her head in her hands and cried.

She didn't care who saw her, who felt sorry for her, and who tried to calm her down enough to tell what happened. At that moment, Toko felt that she had just made the biggest mistake of her life.

She needed to cry.

And so, she cried.

* * *

**[author's jargon]** I honestly can't believe this site doesn't have a section for this series yet. It's a wonderful, beautiful series, and it has very quickly become my favorite anime/manga series of all time. For those not in the know, this series is called _Bungaku Shoujo_. This fanfiction was written from a scene in the anime movie, one that makes me cry now. Thanks, Konoha muse.

After seeing this scene again ... and again, and again, and again, I just had to write something for it. So, I did. This is what I think Toko's feelings would have been after that scene at the train station.

Another thing: people who know the series may argue my spelling of Toko's name. First off, allow me to give you massive hugs for knowing this series to begin with. Second, I have seen her name spelled three different ways: Tooko, Touko, and Toko. I chose to use Toko. I don't believe that there is really any big deal that needs to be made about the spelling of her name, considering there are so many different spellings out there. Toko is Touko is Tooko. Plain and Simple.

... that said, I write this story because I have an immense love for this series, and wish to write for it. I adore this character, and I adore her co-star, Inoue Konoha. Actually, I adore all the characters in this series. It's a wonderful series, go watch it if you haven't already.


	2. two months, six hours, fourteen days

It had been two months, fourteen days, six hours, and thirty five minutes since he had last seen her.

For the most part, Konoha had tried to return to his normal life. After everything that had happened concerning Miu, he felt he had worried his friends enough; they didn't need to be worrying about him anymore. No. Even she had said so; he had to find his own path. Make his way in the world. Live his own life. Share his gifts with the world.

_But I was only able to write because she was always here to inspire me,_ He had often reminded himself. _Since she's been gone, I haven't been able to write anything._

The two months, fourteen days, six hours, and thirty five minutes since he'd last seen her were two months, fourteen days, six hours, and thirty five minutes too many.

Konoha sighed, laying on his bed, flat on his back, eyes directed toward the ceiling. He ran a hand through short, brown hair. He began to count the little spots of drywall that littered the ceiling. He tried to pretend they were stars, constellations ... like he and Miu had done when they were kids.

He found he couldn't do it. His inspiration was gone. It left with her, those two months, fourteen days, six hours, and thirty five minutes ago.

Konoha noticed what was happening, and he sat up, shaking his head and slapping his cheeks to prevent himself from going into another emotional trip. He needed a distraction.

Miu. Miu would be a good distraction. Miu would _love_ to be his distraction. He had to call her.

His hand reached into his pocket for his phone, a smile gracing his lips. Yes. He would call up Miu, spend some time with her, and forget all about the fact that it had been two months, fourteen days, six hours ...

As he scrolled through his contacts list, however, his train of thought stopped short.

Ah, yes. This happened every time. He would go to call Miu, but the name before hers was always ...

_Amano Toko._

He still had her cell phone number, though he had never dared to call it. Certainly, he had thought about it. Several times, in fact. But every time he came close to pushing the call button, he stopped short.

No. She was probably busy. Hokkaido must be keeping her busy. She probably didn't even have the time to talk to him.

Still, he wanted to talk to her.

He _needed_ to talk to her.

Konoha highlighted her name, his thumb trembling, hovering over the call button.

It was just a button.

_Just a button._

He just ... needed to press it. Press the button.

_Press the button, Konoha_.

A beep sounded. As if he were mechanical, Konoha lifted the phone to his ear, just in time to hear a voice on the other end of the line.

"_This number is no longer in service. Please check to make sure the number you are dialing is correct._"

Konoha didn't even notice the tears rolling down his cheeks as he dropped the phone from his ear, ending the call.

And then pressing the button again.

When he was met with the same message as before, he ended the call, and did it again. He pressed the button again. He pressed the button, over, and over, and _over_ again.

It was as if he were making up for all of the times he _hadn't_ pressed it. Finally, he pressed the button for the final time, bringing the receiver up to his ear again.

"_This number is no longer in service. Please check to make sure the number you are diaing is correct_."

"Toko-senpai?" He said into the receiver, his voice shaking with the emotion that poured down his cheeks. He knew she wasn't picking up. He knew that the voice on the other line wasn't even hers. He didn't care.

"It has been two months, fourteen days, six hours, and fourty five minutes since I last saw you. I just wanted to tell you that I miss you. I miss you ... and I love you. And I want you to come back. I know you want me to ... t-to just ... c-continue on without you, but ..." His voice broke further as he continued to talk. He pressed the end button, his numbed body dropping the phone to the floor beside his bed.

"I-I ... I-I can't. T-The stories ... m-my stories are gone again. They left with you. They left me, two months, fourteen days, six hours, and fourty six minutes ago."

He buried his face in his hands, heaving a giant, heavy sob.


End file.
